Madonna

by J. Randy Taraborrelli

  Michael hadn’t spoken to Madonna since the time he put the kibosh on the video in which Madonna wanted Michael to dress as a woman. However, in the fall of 1996, Madonna sent Michael a note to wish him luck on the beginning of a tour on which he was embarking at the time, and sent a huge floral display to Prague where he debuted his show. She tried to refrain from making critical comments about him, which was difficult for her.

  “She also began calling people she hadn’t talked to or seen in years,” says her friend. Said Diane Giordano: “She told me that she wanted to be a good mother, but was afraid that would not be possible because she had become so accustomed to being a self-centered person. She became spiritual, and started looking at herself in a new and more uncompromising way. So, M’s pregnancy was an emotional and very human time for her — and also for all the people in her life who were getting surprising, middle-of-the-night phone calls from Madonna asking for forgiveness. Being pregnant and bringing the baby to term was the toughest thing she’d ever had to do, tougher than anything she’d done in her career. Just as it is for a lot of women, being pregnant marked a defining time in her life.”

  Though it was difficult, especially toward the end of her pregnancy, she still tried to enjoy her free time. Recalls Juliette Hohnen, “We decided to go to an art exhibition when she was nine months pregnant. In order to avoid the ever-present paparazzi, we had to lie down in the back of a dirty minivan. So much for glamorous transportation.”

  She also tried to attend as many parties as possible, just to stay busy. After a gathering for photographer Herb Ritts at Perino’s restaurant in Beverly Hills in September 1996, a very pregnant Madonna (in a powder-blue cut-on-the-bias dress designed by Susan Becker, a simple matching sweater by Anna Molinari, and wearing the diamond-studded gold watch that Donatella Versace gave her for her birthday) confessed to close friends that she felt out of place, “fat and ugly and just awful.” She was standing in the corner looking alone and miserable. Ritts walked right by her, not having noticed her, and when he did see her he apologized and said, “I’m sorry I missed you.” She said, “I don’t see how anyone could miss me. I’m as big as a fucking house.”

  She had been having cravings that were unusual for her: poached eggs and omelets of every kind, caramel and strawberry ice cream, pizza, cheeseburgers and other junk foods. One person had seen her in a small grocery store in a sleazy part of Hollywood, standing in a corner “eating one of those awful hot dogs with a soft drink.”

  Lourdes

  On October 14, 1996, thirty-eight-year-old Madonna gave birth to a 6-pound, 9-ounce baby girl she named Lourdes Maria Ciccone Leon at Good Samaritan Hospital in Los Angeles. Lourdes — her name inspired by the town in France associated with miracles — sported a full head of jet-black hair, just like her father’s. It had been a difficult birth, sixteen hours of labor that ended in a cesarean section. Madonna had originally hoped for a natural childbirth, with the soundtrack of a romantic 1988 Alan Rudolph film called The Moderns playing softly in the background. Her dream of such a tranquil birth was dashed, though, when the reality of the pain involved changed her mind. “I just want this to be over,” she told the doctors. “Screw The Moderns. I can’t bear this!” As they wheeled her into the delivery room, a groggy Madonna turned to Carlos Leon, her newly promoted manager Caresse Norman, publicist Liz Rosenberg and several other friends and security guards and said, “Good-bye everyone. I’m going in for my nose job now.”

  Despite the fact that she checked in under the alias Victoria Fernandez, the expected media frenzy ensued, complete with the inevitable “Madonna and Child” articles which were quickly disseminated around the world. Outside the hospital, eleven trucks were parked, each with pop-up satellite towers, plus dozens of camera crews and hordes of photographers and reporters, all patiently waiting for any news tidbits — such as the revelation that Madonna’s pediatrician was Dr. Paul Fleiss, father of convicted Hollywood madam Heidi Fleiss. The birth was just two months before Evita was set to open. The coincidental timing of these two major events in her life “was incredibly poetic,” Madonna said. “I waited so long for this movie and it finally happened. I wanted so badly to have a child and I got pregnant while making the movie. Suddenly, God gave me two gifts that were very important to me.” She pointed out that “everything I do is scrutinized so I shouldn’t be surprised that it continued when I was pregnant. I try to have a sense of humor about it, but it does irritate me. My child is not for public consumption. It’s not a career move. It’s not a performance to be judged and rated. Nor is my role as a mother.”

  Carlos Leon — who cut the umbilical cord with surgeon’s scissors — would give Madonna sole custody of the baby. Of the notion of marriage Madonna stated emphatically, “I don’t feel the need. I’m perfectly happy with the way things are.” As for defining a father’s role in raising children in general Madonna said, “I think it’s just as important as the mother’s. But I won’t tell you specifically that I think it’s a man’s job to do this and a woman’s job to do that. They both have nurturing roles to play.” When pressed to answer if the ideal would be to have both a mother and father at home Madonna retorted, “I grew up without a mother and I did all right.”

  Madonna decided that she would not release an official picture of little Lourdes for mass consumption (that would come a year later in Vanity Fair), which only served to make a shot of the baby all the more exclusive. If a photographer managed to get a clear portrait, it was estimated it could bring in as much as $250,000. She was incensed that the price of a photograph of her baby was so exorbitant, yet she also must have understood that had she released a photograph, the price — and, maybe even the interest — would have decreased dramatically.

  As Madonna recuperated from childbirth, media interest in her and her newborn did not ebb. With the Evita opening just a couple of months in the offing, subsequent magazine interviews that Madonna gave revolved as much around motherhood as the making of the movie. And, as the publicity machine rolled forward, the softer image that she had begun to orchestrate just prior to the filming of the movie also came into focus. Now, she was able finally to announce to the world that she was a kinder, gentler Madonna, one with new values, worthier agendas . . . and even a baby, no less.

  “Madonna has repeatedly been depicted as cocky, shameless and curt,” journalist Jonathan Alter wrote after his interview with her. “But I found none of this to be true. She was emotional about motherhood, impassioned about playing Eva Perón and surprisingly uncertain about what the future holds. In place of her legendary self-confidence, Madonna seemed unusually vulnerable.”

  In a cover story for Redbook magazine, Madonna said, “When I started seriously thinking about motherhood and taking care of a child, certain people that I found amusing and interesting didn’t seem so terribly amusing and interesting. I did a lot of emotional housecleaning and I wound up with a much smaller handful of friends.”

  For the first four weeks after Lourdes was born, Madonna didn’t do anything but take care of her, hold her and (breast) feed her. Then slowly she started getting back to work, sitting at her desk and talking on the phone, trying to run her record company. “It was a huge adjustment,” Madonna said. “I used to make a list and know I’d get everything done. Now a lot of things don’t get done, and that’s OK.”

  Madonna sent for her father, Tony, and his wife, Joan, so that they could visit her in Los Angeles and meet Lourdes. It was a joyful time. If there was any acrimony between Madonna and her father and stepmother, it certainly wasn’t evident during the time they visited her after the baby was born. Other members of the Ciccone family — and also the Leon family — also converged on Madonna’s home to celebrate the new birth. Tony seemed to get along well with Carlos, and some observers noticed that he tried to convince Carlos to marry his daughter. “Dad, stop it, please,” Madonna said, good-naturedly. She was wearing combat trousers and a white tank top, with her bra showing (which may or may not have
given Tony pause). “Carlos does what he wants to do. If he wants to marry me, he will.” Of course, whether or not Madonna became a married woman really wasn’t a decision that Carlos was likely to be the one to make.

  One month after the baby’s birth Madonna once again fixed her eyes on the future — and the premiere of Evita in December. The 5-foot, 4-inch superstar had tipped the scales at a hefty 140 pounds before the birth of Lourdes, and she was seen furiously pedaling around Los Angeles’s Griffith Park trying to slim down to 115 pounds before the movie’s opening. For the next few weeks Madonna stuck to a low-fat diet and extensive exercise, and by early December she was turning heads with her slimmed-down shape.

  Just before she gave birth, Madonna put her 7,800-square-foot mansion — the former home of gangster Bugsy Siegel — on the market for $6.5 million. Madonna said that she felt the house, just below the legendary “Hollywood” sign, was haunted and didn’t want to live there with her baby. Her Manhattan duplex also went up for sale for $7 million. In preparation for the baby, she had bought a cozy $2.7-million house in the Los Feliz district of Los Angeles. Built in the 1920s, the Mediterranean-style home has three bedrooms in about 5,000 square feet, plus a two-bedroom cottage. The home is on two acres, and Madonna would divide her time between that residence and her $4.9-million mansion in Miami.

  Evita: The Movie and Soundtrack

  After all the publicity hoopla, Evita finally had its grand premiere in Los Angeles in December 1996 at the Shrine Auditorium in Los Angeles, which Madonna and Carlos Leon attended together. She wore a magenta Eva Perón – inspired dress designed by John Galliano, a feathered chapeau and veil, and sexy strapped shoes by Manolo Blahnik. Looking confident and smart, she was flanked by bodyguards as she made her captivating entrance in a bedlam of police, limousines, klieg lights and fans, almost 2,000 of them. Truly, she was in her element as the lights played on her while the entourage of reporters and photographers yammered for her attention. Madonna’s smile stretched wide. Exultant, she laughed, waved and posed as the paparazzi flashed their lights and reporters jotted down notes.

  “Yes, it was such fun,” she said to one reporter.

  “No, I have no plans for another movie,” she explained to another, “but if you know a producer, tell him to call me,” she added with a laugh.

  “See the movie,” she enthused to one on-camera commentator. “It’s my proudest achievement, besides my daughter.”

  Once inside, she chatted with Antonio Banderas and Melanie Griffith, seeming genuinely happy even though she was facing emergency root canal surgery the following day. Then, there would be another star turn when she would fly to London with her baby for the Evita premiere there.

  The $56-million extravaganza was a quick commercial success; generally, the movie’s reviews were favorable. Time magazine’s Richard Corliss wrote: “It’s a relief to say that Alan Parker’s film, which opens on Christmas Day, is pretty damn fine, well cast and handsomely visualized. Madonna once again confounds our expectations. She does a tough score proud. Lacking the vocal vigor of Elaine Paige’s West End Evita , Madonna plays Evita with a poignant weariness. She has more than just a bit of star quality. Love or hate Madonna-Eva, she is a magnet for all eyes. You must watch her.”

  It’s true; Evita is a spectacularly produced film. The direction and art direction are superb. The supporting cast is excellent, the sets breathtaking, the costumes captivating . . . all of which adds up to a visually beautiful movie. The film is always entertaining and, at times, moving. But what of Madonna’s performance as its star?

  There is no denying that she is a magnificent entertainer. In her pop videos and stage concerts she has a magic that, at its best, dazzles and electrifies. Perhaps, had she brought some of the flash and trash sexiness of her video persona to her role as Eva Perón (as she did in her first movie role, Desperately Seeking Susan), her interpretation might have been a smashing success. Her choice, though, was to downplay Eva Perón’s ferocious hunger, her desire to succeed, her need to excel. Her determination to portray a more sympathetic image for the character — and for herself — ultimately strips Evita of her undercurrent of urgency. In the end, Evita’s masterful manipulations become sweet suggestions; numbers that should burn with intensity instead take on a certain pallor. For example, Madonna’s coy interpretation of the seduction called “I’d Be Surprisingly Good for You,” dilutes what should have been a tour de force and makes it sound weak and whiny.

  Madonna dances expertly and looks lovely in the period costumes (although she appears too old for early scenes when — filmed in deep shadow — she plays Eva as a teenager). But always we are aware of Madonna as a performer working extremely hard at a role. We never feel that she and the role become one. She is so calculating — just as she has always been in her work — that there doesn’t appear to be one truly organic moment for her as an actress in the entire movie. The viewer can almost hear her mind working: click — look this way, click — feel this way, click — time to cry.

  During the times she is weakest, there are pleasant distractions. For instance, her performance on the much-anticipated “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” scene on the balcony of the Casa Rosada seems wooden and disaffected, especially considering all she did to secure that location. Yet, it is somehow boosted and lent power by sweeping camera angles, dramatic lighting changes and especially by her supporting players. Antonio Banderas’s sly looks of admiration and contempt, Jonathan Pryce’s proud bolstering from the sidelines, and the strong emotions on the faces of the extras playing Evita’s supporters all lend power to the scene that Madonna — for all her strained neck muscles — cannot seem to muster.

  Whereas there may be ambivalence from some quarters about her work as an actress in the film, as a singer Madonna could not have been more wondrous. When the two-disc soundtrack album to Evita made its debut, the resulting performance made jaws drop. Madonna performed with a sense of technical and emotional discipline and depth seldom heard or seen in her acts, and a commanding familiarity with the work that allowed her to get inside the Webber/Rice songs in a way that seemed even deeper and more convincing than her on-screen transformation into Evita.

  As Evita Perón, Madonna is responsible for singing on most of the songs in the musical, alone or with her co-stars. When she makes her first appearance on the soundtrack — as the wistful voice of Evita, reflecting from her grave during the sad passage of “Oh What a Circus” — she is supple and strong, and doesn’t sound at all out of place. She then sounds even more self-assured during “Eva and Mafaldi/Eva Beware of the City,” a movement with complex and conflicting tempos. Bigger voices than hers have certainly sung the festive, determined “Buenos Aires,” one of the production’s signature tunes, but Madonna also made it her own.

  In the end, Madonna sang her way through a full musical’s worth of what was unquestionably the most challenging material of her career. She didn’t simply get through it, as some other singers-turned-actresses might have — but gave a performance that was, at times, captivating. Who can deny that her voice has remarkable and unmistakable presence when heard during “You Must Love Me”?

  Two singles from the soundtrack, the aforementioned “You Must Love Me” and “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina,” reached Number 18 and Number 8 on the Billboard singles chart respectively, while the soundtrack itself in 1996 went to Number 2 on the trade magazine’s album chart. The soundtrack sold five million copies stateside, and eleven million internationally. With this collection, she added just one more triumph to a world-class résumé already brimming with accomplishments . . . and she also silenced a good deal of snickering in the process.

  If nothing else, the interest that surrounded Evita — the film and the soundtrack — should have given Madonna more opportunities to star in big-budget movies. The Golden Globe, given by the Foreign Press Association, acknowledged her by giving her the award for best performance by a female in a musical or comedy. Certainly, this award was a well-
deserved honor symbolizing a year of extraordinarily hard work, dedication and commitment on the part of Madonna. Sadly, no other offers were forthcoming, at least none that she felt were worth her time and energy. Also, she was snubbed at the Oscars, though “You Must Love Me” did win one for Best Song (and the award went to song-writers Webber and Rice).

  “I’m patient,” she concluded in one interview. “Roles for women are not easy to come by, especially good ones. I’d like to say that the way I handle my career is by being smart about it, but then how would I explain Body of Evidence? When the right role comes along, maybe I’ll know it. Maybe I won’t. I’m not a genius. I just do the best I can do.”

  No Future with Carlos

  After the legendary film star Elizabeth Taylor had brain surgery to remove a benign tumor in the spring of 1997, Madonna sent her a basket of fruit at the hospital. The accompanying note read, “You are my idol. There will never be another Elizabeth Taylor. Get well.” When Elizabeth was sent home, Madonna became a frequent visitor to her Bel Air mansion; a friendship between the two women began to blossom. Elizabeth urged Madonna to marry Carlos Leon and “give Lourdes a father. My dear, it’s obvious you love the man.” Taylor was also quoted as having said, “So why don’t you marry him? God knows I’ve married many more who’ve given me a lot less than Carlos has given you. He’s given you a beautiful baby and will give you more. Besides, he’s gorgeous.”

  The two laughed about the fact that Madonna had wanted the pope to baptize Lourdes, but he turned her down. “Imagine, me being turned down by the Vatican,” she said, according to one of her friends. “How dare he?” (Actually, Madonna didn’t think the pope would consent to such a baptism. After all, she wasn’t even married. But what did she have to lose by asking?) Instead, Madonna had the baby christened at St. Jude’s in Miami. “It was nice, but it ain’t the Vatican,” she told Elizabeth Taylor. Madonna later indicated in an interview that she wanted Lourdes to be raised a Catholic because, “that foundation was important to me, and important to Carlos. Say what you will about Catholicism, the things you pick up along the way do help you by giving you something to turn to when you’re in trouble. Then, when you have that foundation, you can start looking at other philosophies — which is what I’ve done.”